Page 30 of The Thief

“You’re a real friend. I mean it.”

He winked. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

I snorted when his tummy rumbled. “Let’s go feed the Bear.”

* * *

Bear reflected on the evening’s events. Not only was it a shock to discover that Mercy had no memory of her life, but her involvement with a murder put him in a state of alarm. Self-defense in the Breed world meant she had every right to defend herself against a Mage who could have killed her with a powerful energy blast.

Just hearing her account of those moments made him want to punch a hole in the sky.

Fleeing the crime scene hadn’t done her any favors. If Argento was that Mage’s Creator, he might want to blackmail Mercy. He sure as hell wasn’t seeking justice; otherwise, he would have reported the incident to the Mageri. Bear was willing to bet they didn’t have any solid evidence, so Argento had decided to take matters into his own hands.

As promised, Bear dropped the subject over dinner. They ordered steak and potatoes, but Bear didn’t feel right letting Atticus pay for their meal. Mercy suggested splitting the bill, but Bear refused. Mercy was highly independent and could obviously afford it, but she deserved to be treated like a lady. Especially after all she’d been through. With that in mind, he paid for everything including dessert and two peach cocktails.

Despite laughing at his jokes through dinner, Mercy’s attention was unfocused. He wanted to prove that none of that mattered—that he didn’t think less of her. So he gave her his undivided attention and did his best to keep the conversation light. There was a moment when—warm candlelight flickering between them and jazz music filling the silence—their eyes locked, and his heart quickened. But the heat simmering between them was quickly extinguished when the server collected the empty dishes.

She touched his hand several times while they talked, sometimes holding it for more seconds than he could count. Mercy was demonstrative with her feelings, but this was wholly different. It felt intimate. Partly because she had confided in him, trusting Bear with her fears and emotions. Each time they touched, he felt a spark that made his heart jump. As much as he wanted to lace his fingers in hers, he didn’t. She was fragile, and he didn’t want to do anything that might make her uncomfortable.

After all, they were packmates, not lovers.

Now that she had confided in him, Bear felt an inexplicable loyalty to her. It wasn’t the same loyalty he’d felt for the men he’d guarded all those years ago. That was for money. This was for…

What was this for? Family? Friendship?

During the ride home, Mercy fell asleep. She snored like a little mouse, and it made him chuckle a few times. When he opened the door, she didn’t budge, and he couldn’t bring himself to wake her. Robyn and Melody often joked about how Mercy could sleep through a storm; clearly they hadn’t been exaggerating.

Instead of waking her, he lifted her in his arms and carried her inside.

Robyn and Joy were dragging a heavy box toward the game room but stopped to look when he kicked the door shut with his foot.

“Gracious. Is she okay?” Joy asked, her eyes brimming with concern.

Robyn took one look at Mercy and chuckled. “I told you that one can sleep through a tornado.”

He glanced at the large box of books. “Do you need help with that? I can come back down.”

“Thanks, but we’ve got it.” Joy grabbed the edge and walked backward, sliding it with her. “It’s part of Salem’s book collection.”

“Part one of ten,” Robyn added, pushing the other end. “There’s more.”

The box ripped, and Joy stumbled backward. “Uh-oh.” She stared at her hand. “I broke a nail.”

Robyn straightened. “The complaint department is closed. Let’s get some sleep and deal with this tomorrow.”

“Perhaps Lucian will move it for us,” Joy suggested. “He’s always pacing around at night, so maybe he needs a project to keep him occupied. I once found him sitting on the staircase at two in the morning when I was going downstairs for a glass of milk. He scared me half to death.”

While the women discussed Lucian’s strange nocturnal habits, Bear entered the hall and hiked up the dark staircase. Mercy was as light as a feather, yet simultaneously, he felt the full weight of her life in his hands. His knees weakened at the sweet fragrance of cotton candy that sifted off her like a forgotten memory. It must have been her bodywash, perfume, or shampoo. Nobody smelled that sweet naturally, not unless his wolf senses were sharper in her presence. Shifters in human form didn’t have an acute sense of smell, and yet there he was, noticing floral notes of jasmine mixed in.

He reached an empty hall at the top of the stairs and glanced at the dark window on the left. There was enough room for a chair, but Tak had constructed the upstairs area to be more like an apartment building or a medical office. He turned the other way, then made a sharp left down the central hall. Dim sconces lit his way as he passed shorter hallways on the left and right where the bedrooms and bathrooms were located. There weren’t any doors down the center hall except the storage room on the far end. Bear was glad he’d ended up by the kitchen. His was the only room in the house that offered a shred of privacy, no bedrooms across from or beside it. Only Tak’s, which was at the other end of the house.

His pace slowed down while his thoughts sped up. Mercy’d had three-quarters of her life wiped away. What the hell does that do to a person? Makes them carry weapons, that’s what. A woman her size had every right to arm herself. Even the strongest of men needed protection against certain Breeds, and the rich ones hired guards.

Virgil emerged from the bathroom hall on the left wearing a shiny black robe. His damp hair was slicked back, appearing darker than it did in the sunlight.

“What’s wrong with her?” he asked, squeezing water from his hair onto the floor.

“Clean up that wet spot,” Bear grumbled.

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